mostly in Texas on our farm, and I have noticed a few things about some birds and some mammals that have changed over all those years. In 1948, jackrabbits were everywhere. When I took my walks in the fields, almost daily, I would see jackrabbits constantly. My father would take the family for a drive most every Sunday afternoon. We traveled the back roads to see what we could see. He would pick the route. Jackrabbits were always in evidence. In the summer, we moved our beds out into the backyard and on bright nights I could see jackrabbits down in one of the gardens eating Mother's flowers. We had no coyotes at all then. But over time, the coyotes began to move in and they ate the jackrabbits. I rarely see one now, and even the cottontails are scarce.
In 1948, we had mourning doves, inca doves, and sometimes ground doves. Now we have white wing doves everywhere. I hear them cooing during mating season. We had no cattle egrets but lots and lots of cowbirds. Now we have lots of cattle egrets and I see cowbirds only in the spring if I go down to High Island.
I have long been attuned to the habits of birds around feeding and drinking, and I see them in distress much more often in recent years than I ever have before. I have lots of trees on my place and lots of birds too. Eastern bluebirds nest here, but I can't find their nests--I don't try too hard. But when the young ones get ready to fly they favor the rail fence in my backyard. It is fun to watch them learn to fly. I have been struck by how long the family sticks together. The heat and dryness in the summer take a toll. I keep water for all of the birds but it sometimes is just not enough. I have a couple of pedestals on my back porch for flowerpots but I put plates of water there when it is really hot. I have a photo of nine bluebirds sitting around one plate. They are distressed. Their mouths are wide open and their heads are turned up. They are panting. They come from two families. Four adults and five juveniles.
I took notes in the beginning. I wandered all over our farm observing nests and writing down the details. Later I got into photography and tramped mountains, fields, marshes, lakes, etc. with a 35mm camera, a cable release, a doubler, and a 400mm lens, all mounted on a fully extended tripod. I wanted to get the perfect shot. I did this for years and filled up boxes with slides. But I finally had sense enough to stop. Now I keep only a trip list, and I am not too sincere about it. I bird only for the immediate pleasure.
My golf followed the same pattern. I wanted to win tournaments and play the perfect round, and I got pretty good at it. But now I play only for the joy of it, and that joy is magnified by the joy I get watching for birds as I play. Two years ago I was playing a round and I came upon a young hawk of some kind. He was learning to fly and had fallen. He was looking lost and he was panting. I gave him some water and he quickly recovered. I drove on and when I looped back around an hour or so later he was gone. What a good round of golf that was.
My life list was about 340 or so when I stopped making entries about 1970.
We all think from time to time how we would like to die. I sometimes think that I would like to die suddenly in the middle of a round of golf. Then I think of passing away in a fallout at High Island surrounded by indigo buntings and they flutter exhausted to the ground. Other times I think dying in my sleep full of exciting plans for the next day would be nice. But, when I really seriously think about it I would like to pass away on a bright summer night while a mockingbird is singing his heart out on my roof.